


Aftermath

by Little_Neliel



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Townspeople, M/M, and cheering up his wolf, brief angst, but lots of fluff by the end, darkish thoughts, just eskel being sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Neliel/pseuds/Little_Neliel
Summary: After a fight in a town tavern goes wrong, Geralt has a bit of a spiral. Eskel is there to help reassure him that's he's worth everything.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Another Sugar and Spice bingo fill! This time for forehead/nose kisses.
> 
> This one is short and sweet but I hope you like it! 💜
> 
> I started writing this shortly after starting a fresh playthrough of Witcher 3. The scene in the tavern just before you leave White Orchard, the expression on Geralt's face after the fight is just heart wrenching. So I gave him some Eskel to fix it.

The girl pushed herself back from Geralt’s outstretched hand, terror on her face, “Don’t touch me, get away from me you monster!” she screamed, arms straining to pull her further from the Witcher.

Geralt’s face fell, pain echoing in his eyes as the ones they’d protected recoiled from him in fear. He felt a hand land on his shoulder.

“Let’s go, Wolf,” Eskel’s gruff baritone rumbled behind him.

With one more glance over the tavern occupants, the white haired witcher’s shoulders fell in defeat, “Yeah, let’s go.”

Outside they mounted up, turning their horses to the rough path out of town. They rode in silence, caught up in their thoughts.

Geralt let Roach to fall in behind Scorpion, too tired to do much more than allow the mare to follow. His head hung, eyes unfocused on the dark hair of the mane in front of him; his thoughts full of frustration. He’d been defending the barmaid, he hadn’t wanted to start the fight, yet as always, the blame fell to him. To witchers. Were they so monstrous, so reviled that there was no way for anyone to even consider they just wanted to help, to protect people?

“Wolf,” Eskel’s voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts, “If I remember, there’s a decent cave off the road here. It’ll be a quiet, dry place to camp for the night, we aren’t going to make the next town before dark.”

Geralt grunted, camping outside sounded miles better than dealing with anymore townsfolk. He dismounted as Eskel did, grabbing Roach’s reins and following the other witcher into the woods. After a short walk through some denser bush, they found themselves in a small clearing. 

With practiced movements, they silently pulled their saddle bags from the horses, and began the process of untacking and rubbing them down for the night. A few treats, despite his mood Geralt would never neglect Roach’s end of the day treats, Geralt gave her a firm pat and gathered up his bags.

With the horses looked after and picketed just outside, saddlebags in hand, they trudged into the cave. It was decently sized, and a curve in the entrance kept the main part hidden from the outside. A few rocky outcrops served as shelves, allowing them to dump their bags at an easily accessible height.

Again, routine took over, both witchers working quickly to spread out their bedrolls and get a fire going. A quick Igni and the fire was roaring, quickly heating the little cave. Geralt sat, staring into the fire as Eskel busied himself dropping the pieces of his gear he could. Concealed as they were, they could afford to be a little less on guard than normal.

“Come on Wolf,” Eskel appeared by his side, “You need to drop some of that gear, give yourself a break.”

When he didn’t make a move to remove any of his armor, Eskel sighed and crouched in front of him, bringing him eye level with the other man. He didn’t say a word but reached out and began deftly unbuckling Geralt’s swords, pulling them from his back and setting them aside. He then reached for the leather chest piece, unlatching the catches and gently peeling it from Geralt, setting it next to the swords.

“Come on,” he urged gently, “Stand for me, we need to get this off you.” He waited until Geralt reached out a hand and then pulled him to his feet. Geralt couldn’t meet his eyes and let his head droop.

He felt a large hand settle on the back of his neck, holding him. Eskel’s forehead then gently rested on his, “I know, it’s hard. No matter how many times it happens.”

Geralt heaved a sigh, and looked up, meeting the amber eyes of his best friend, his partner. The man who somehow managed to keep him together year after year on the Path.

Eskel took in the pain in the yellow eyes opposite him. Geralt had always wanted to be the hero, the white knight, as far back as he could remember and despite the years on the Path, the generally cold reception of the populace, he still held a sliver of that hope in his heart. 

Tilting his head up, he placed a small kiss on Geralt’s nose, “You’ll always be my hero.”

Geralt snorted, a small smile creeping on his face, “You’re the worst.”

Eskel grinned, but didn’t respond, he reached out and pulled at the last of the buckles holding the massive mail coat over Geralt’s slim frame. He gently pulled it open, and slid it off the other man’s shoulders, leaving him standing in his leather pants and a light, white undershirt.

He laid the coat next to their pile of gear and then returned to Geralt. Resuming his position in front of his lover, he reached out and placed another kiss on his forehead, “Do you want anything to eat, or just to sleep?”

“Mmm, just sleep for now, please.”

“Okay, come on,” he pulled Geralt over to where he’d spread out their bedrolls next to the fire. He pushed the other man down, getting him settled on his back. Geralt raised a brow, but let Eskel get him sorted and comfortable. He then stretched out next to him on his side, propped up on his arm, leaning over Geralt.

“Eskel?” he asked softly, confusion in his eyes.

“I hate when they treat you like that,” Eskel started, features soft in the light of the fire, “You’re the best of us wolf, and they fact they can’t see that is an injustice.”

Geralt snorted, “You’ve been spending too much time around the bard.”

“Hush,” Eskel admonished, a smile playing across his features, “Let me do this.” He trailed a hand down the side of Geralt’s face, sword calloused fingers snagging across a day’s growth worth of bread. The white haired man’s eyes flicked closed, leaning into the sensation.

“You’re magnificent,” a voice came from just above him, and a small kiss was placed on his forehead. 

“You’re caring,” a kiss touched his nose.

“You do everything you can to protect those that can’t,” another kiss fluttered across his cheek.

“You never let their harsh words change you,” his other kiss received a kiss.

“You’re beautiful,” the light kisses returned to his forehead.

Geralt groaned in frustration.

Eskel grinned, “Something you’d like Wolf?”

Yellow eyes cracked open, “Kiss me? Please?” he whispered softly.

“Of course,” Eskel leaned in, gently kissing the other witcher. Geralt moaned low at the contact, but the kiss stayed chaste. After a few moments Eskel broke away, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” came the response.

Eskel dropped on his back beside Geralt, and held out his arms. The white haired witcher rolled into the offered embrace, pillowing his head on Eskel’s chest. Thick arms curled around him, holding him close, and his eyes drifted shut.

One final kiss was placed lightly on top of his head, “Sleep Wolf. I’ll watch over you.”


End file.
